Devil May Cry is vague on certain details (such as Sparda's death and why Dante wasn't killed with his mother and Virgil). While they make for interesting fanfics, they can be annoying if stuff doesn't fit together and you just have to live with it. For example, at the time of DMC, I'm going to say that Dante is 28.
Having said that, here is this story's setting: Dante is 11, and it is three years after his family was killed. He is living in an nice, well off orphanage and being "home schooled" there.
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Chapter 1: It's a Hard Knock Life
Dante Sparda was a generally good kid, the orphanage workers agreed, though he could be strange sometimes. He was a fair student, if disorganized and tending to procrastinate, and in athletics he was a natural. Of friends, he had but a few, but that small group worshipped the ground he walked on.
Of course there are always sides to children that adults never see. Like the muffled terror every night when the shadows would hang in the air, and the occasional haunted look that crossed his face, followed by a dark look of anger that was out of place on his childish face. All they saw was that he was bright and determined.
"What do you want to do when you grow up?" they would ask.
He would look up at them with sky blue eyes burning with zeal. "I'm going to help save people!" he'd reply with utter conviction. And how the adults would smile and think about what a wonderful doctor or fireman he'd be.
His thoughts were elsewhere though. He would help the people that needed to be saved from the monsters, the bad ones that…His fists curled into balls as he remembered that night. It had been evening, and he had been playing with friends down the street. One of his friend's mom was walking home, only a few blocks away, when they heard the noises. Rushing over to the house…his friend's mom had tried not to let him look, but he saw it anyway. The broken furniture, the blood. The bodies. The mom dragged him frantically across the street to use the neighbor's phone, and that's when he chanced to look up and see it. Crouched among the shadows of a nearby rooftop. It was as dark as the night, almost a shadow itself, but with burning red eyes of crimson hate.
He'd known what it was. His mother had told him and his brother about devils…and their father. He was one of the good guys, though, she'd say to them. He fought for justice and to save humanity. It was Dante's dream to be just like him. There was no one else to do it. Later, he tried to tell the police about the devil he'd seen, but they had just shaken their heads sadly and tried to convince him it was just a bad dream.
So he kept it a secret. His mother had always warned them not to tell anyone about their father, that some people wouldn't like how they were…different. It was hard though sometimes. He'd seen the Superman movie, and how Clark had to pretend he was a normal guy even though he had all sorts of amazing powers.
Dante had spent a week attempting to fly after seeing it. He found that while flying was not among his stock of interesting powers, apparently fast healing was.
He was eleven years old now, almost a teenager, which meant almost an adult. He was ready for the devils, he thought as played outside swinging a stick like a sword. He would fight them all, like his dad. He would become a hero, and --
"Dante!" one of the boys in a nearby field called suddenly. He carried a soccer ball and was surrounded by a few other boys. "Let's play some soccer!"
Dante grinned and ran over, dropping his stick, dreams of vengeance lost in boyish childhood.
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Aw…isn't he cute? ^_^
These chapters are going to be a lot shorter than from my other fanfic, Reign of the Five.
Next Chapter: …(I don't have a name yet) ^.^*
Having said that, here is this story's setting: Dante is 11, and it is three years after his family was killed. He is living in an nice, well off orphanage and being "home schooled" there.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1: It's a Hard Knock Life
Dante Sparda was a generally good kid, the orphanage workers agreed, though he could be strange sometimes. He was a fair student, if disorganized and tending to procrastinate, and in athletics he was a natural. Of friends, he had but a few, but that small group worshipped the ground he walked on.
Of course there are always sides to children that adults never see. Like the muffled terror every night when the shadows would hang in the air, and the occasional haunted look that crossed his face, followed by a dark look of anger that was out of place on his childish face. All they saw was that he was bright and determined.
"What do you want to do when you grow up?" they would ask.
He would look up at them with sky blue eyes burning with zeal. "I'm going to help save people!" he'd reply with utter conviction. And how the adults would smile and think about what a wonderful doctor or fireman he'd be.
His thoughts were elsewhere though. He would help the people that needed to be saved from the monsters, the bad ones that…His fists curled into balls as he remembered that night. It had been evening, and he had been playing with friends down the street. One of his friend's mom was walking home, only a few blocks away, when they heard the noises. Rushing over to the house…his friend's mom had tried not to let him look, but he saw it anyway. The broken furniture, the blood. The bodies. The mom dragged him frantically across the street to use the neighbor's phone, and that's when he chanced to look up and see it. Crouched among the shadows of a nearby rooftop. It was as dark as the night, almost a shadow itself, but with burning red eyes of crimson hate.
He'd known what it was. His mother had told him and his brother about devils…and their father. He was one of the good guys, though, she'd say to them. He fought for justice and to save humanity. It was Dante's dream to be just like him. There was no one else to do it. Later, he tried to tell the police about the devil he'd seen, but they had just shaken their heads sadly and tried to convince him it was just a bad dream.
So he kept it a secret. His mother had always warned them not to tell anyone about their father, that some people wouldn't like how they were…different. It was hard though sometimes. He'd seen the Superman movie, and how Clark had to pretend he was a normal guy even though he had all sorts of amazing powers.
Dante had spent a week attempting to fly after seeing it. He found that while flying was not among his stock of interesting powers, apparently fast healing was.
He was eleven years old now, almost a teenager, which meant almost an adult. He was ready for the devils, he thought as played outside swinging a stick like a sword. He would fight them all, like his dad. He would become a hero, and --
"Dante!" one of the boys in a nearby field called suddenly. He carried a soccer ball and was surrounded by a few other boys. "Let's play some soccer!"
Dante grinned and ran over, dropping his stick, dreams of vengeance lost in boyish childhood.
------------------------------------------------------------
Aw…isn't he cute? ^_^
These chapters are going to be a lot shorter than from my other fanfic, Reign of the Five.
Next Chapter: …(I don't have a name yet) ^.^*